We Live Then We Die
by BAU Intern
Summary: Jane Mitchells was an average Atlanta resident until the world she knew was torn apart forever and replaced with death and despair. When her husband is killed and she finds herself caring and protecting a child she barely knows, she is forced to survive in a world gone mad. will she hold strong to her values of a time gone by, or will she give up all she has ever known to survive?
1. Chapter 1

Jane slowly closed the door behind her, holding the round bronze knob tightly in her hand for a moment after it had shut. She turned to the small girl, staring at her, eating a tv dinner, next to two more sitting at the table, untouched. "I made dinner." The girl said. "The last one is a little cold, because the power went out when it was in the microwave." Jane stood there for a moment, looking from the girl to the meals with tired, hollow eyes. "Which one?" She finally said, in a quiet, level tone. The little girl pointed to the half frozen steak and potatoes. Jane walked over and picked up the tray and fork off of the coffee table. She headed towards the kitchen in her tiny apartment, quickly picking up speed until she was in a full on sprint. She reached her trash can and slammed the cheap plastic tray and the fork into the metal bin screaming and kicking it over. She slid against the wall and began muffled screaming into her hands.

The little girl cautiously walked over to the kitchen and sat on her knees in front of the woman. "My daddy says that when your mad you shouldn't scream. You should close your eyes, take a deep breath, and count to ten. I can show you how to do it, ok?" Jane stopped screaming at the girls nervous words, but still sat where she was, motionless, trembling every so often, staring at the white and black tile between her feet. "One... two... three... four... five..." Jane obediently took a deep breath and counted with the girl. "Eight... nine... ten." Jane slowly lifted her red tear stained face to see the girls outstretched hand. "Come on, your dinner is gonna get cold, and I don't know when the power is gonna come back on so we can't heat it up." She took her little hand and let her lead her to the living room, where they sat on their knees and ate their dinners in silence. Jane almost sat down in the couch out of habit but she had forgotten that Patrick had pushed it against the door as a barricade.

As they finished their meals, the little girl collected the forks and put them in the sink and Jane picked up the trash and threw away the trays. "Can I have something to drink before bed mam?" Jane reattached the lid to the trash can and realized that the two didn't even know each others name. "Sure kid." She went to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. "My name is Jane by the way." She walked over to the sink as the little girl smiled. "I'm Hannah." Jane twisted the knob but no water came out. "Shit." She mumbled. She heard Hannah gasp. "Sorry, sorry." She walked over to the fridge, and opened it up. It was still a little bit cold so she quickly grabbed the orange juice, poured a glass and returned it. "Here." She said handing the glass to Hannah. She gave Jane a

big toothy grin before quickly gulping it down.

Jane shifted from one foot to another, unnerved at the small child staring at her. "Do you need a band-aid?" Hannah asked. She squinted and raised her eyebrow. "Why do you think i need a band-aid?" The little girl pointed at her left cheek and said "you're bleeding." She ran her fingers across her left side of her face and looked at her hand. A few drops of smeared, half dried dark blood resided there.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks again as she fell to her knees, visions of Patrick handing her a gun and begging her to shoot him, him growling and lunging at her, her turning her head away and squeezing the trigger...

She jumped as something soft touched her face. A wash cloth being moved rhythmically in little circles. "What are you doing?" The little girl moved to the other cheek as she spoke. "Washing your face. We don't have any water, but you were crying a lot so that works too. When is that man coming out of his room? I'm really sleepy and he said that he would tuck me in tonight because my momma and daddy can't any more." She stopped wiping now and looked down, holding back tears of her own.

Jane looked into the girls sad eyes at a complete loss. She had no clue how to handle children. Pat was always great with them of course. What would he do? She looked away from the young girl, cautiously opened her arms, and whispered "Come here Hannah." The child flew into her arms and began to sob unforgivably. After a moment, Jane fell into the embrace and she too began to weep. The two cried until they ran out of the energy and tears. They laid down on the soft grey carpet, and slept.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane awoke to a firm shaking on her shoulder. She tightened her eyes and tried to ignore the intrusion to her blissful sleep. "Jane! Jane! Someone's trying to get in to your house!" Her eyes shot open to see Hannah's small, scared face looking down at her. She could hear grunting and moaning and clawing at the front door. More worryingly, scraping against the floor. The couch barricade was beginning to move.

Jane lept up off the floor and pressed up against the couch, pushing it back. Hannah quickly ran up to the door and started attempting to push it shut. The first rotten, crusty arm inched its way in, desperately clawing the air. The stench of death wafted its way into Jane's nostrils, causing her and Hannah both to stop for a moment and catch themselves. That was all it took for the hand to find its way to one of Hannah's braids and grab it, jerking her head towards the door. A piercing scream rang in Jane's ears. She ran over to the door and to her horror saw what was happening. "Oh my god!" In between her wails Hannah looked at Jane with a tear soaked face, stained with pain and fear. "Mommy! Mommy! I want my mommy!" Jane was snapped out of her shock after another high pitched wail sent an electric shiver down her spine.

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed the mallet out of the drawer. She felt the cool metal of the handle between her fingers. She sized up the weight of her weapon and took a deep breath. She then sprinted to the front door and Hannah's howling screams. She grabbed the wrist of the undead attacker, feeling the dry, wrinkled skin writhe in her hand. She was used to the texture and the feel of dead skin, but feeling it move made her stomach turn. She rose the mallet and swung it down with all her force. The sickly crunch of breaking bones gave her chills, but she kept bashing until the arm hung loose in the doorway, releasing its grip on Hannah. Jane grabbed the back of her collar and gave it a forceful pull, pulling her away from the corpses and throwing her to the ground. She raised the mallet and gave another swing, this time dislocating a shoulder that was trying to force its way past the door.

She turned back to Hannah and pulled the sobbing child to her feet. "Go hide! Get in the kitchen and get a knife! Now dammit!" The little girl sprinted towards the kitchen with a terrorized scream. Jane turned back to her door to see that a corpse had crawled its way through. She looked and saw that its right leg was horribly mangled. It clawed at the carpet, dragging itself closer and closer towards her, leaving bits of old skin and black blood on the floor behind it. "Ok. You can do this. Its just like Pat said. It has to be the head."

She remembered holding his hand, squeezing it tighter with each stroke of his thumb back and fourth against hers. Feeling sick watching him grow paler and paler. Wiping the blood off his face when he coughed. Helping him struggle to drink water. She lost count of how many times they told one another they loved each other. She remembered the heart wrenching pain she felt watching him taking his final breath. She remembered clutching his face, sobbing, preying, begging, willing him to wake up. And he did. Those eyes. She will never forget those eyes.

The corpse reared up its head and snarled, saliva swirled with blood running down its face. It looked up at her with those same eyes. White, sick, soulless. Just as it was about to lunge for her thigh, she raised the mallet above her head and swung down with all her force, knocking it to the ground. It slowly raised its head, making a sick groaning sound and she bashed it again and again and again. Falling to her knees, and bashing it one more time.

She stopped, caught her breath, and wiped the sweat and blood from her forehead. She looked up to see another corpse stagger in through the doorway. She quickly got up and sprinted towards him, yelling as she charged. She slammed the corner of the mallet into its left temple, causing it to become stuck.

She adjusted her grip on the slick, bloodied mallet handle with her left hand, steadied her stance and landed a hard powerful kick to the square of the corpses face, forcing her body into a near split. The power sent it straight out the door and tumbling down the stairs outside. The mallet flew out of her hand and flew straight into her framed diploma, settling into the wall behind it. She slowly lowered her leg into a normal position. She rubbed the muscle of her inner thigh, only slightly shocked at the sudden change in position. She rolled her shoulders and walked towards her weapon. "Thank you yoga." She muttered to herself, shutting the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane's tennis shoes crunched on the broken glass strewn across the floor as she went to collect her weapon. She wiped the blood off of her hands and onto her sweatpants. She grabbed a firm hold of the mallet's handle and was able to jiggle it out of the wall with almost no problem. She looked at her now ruined diploma and frowned. "All that time and money for a sheet of paper and now that's ruined too." She shook her head and looked at the damage, seeing that it had put a hole clean through to the kitchen. She closed one eye and looked through. There she was. Huddled in a corner, shaking, clutching a carving knife for dear life. Looking right at her. Hannah. How could she forget there was a little girl here? That she almost had her head torn off. The poor kid must be terrified.

Jane walked over to the door and gave it a gentle nudge. "Hey kid, you ok?" She poked her head in and her eyes met Hannahs. She slowly walked through the door and started to towards the girl. "Stop! Don't get any closer!" Hannah's voice wavered as she stood up and pointed the knife at her. Jane raised her hands in the air. "Alright kid, i know you're scared, but its ok. I'm not gonna hurt you." She took another step towards her and the girl jumped up, back pressed against the wall, the weapon shaking furiously in her hand.

Jane lowered herself to match Hannah's height. "You did good kid. You did exactly as I said. You were brave, and you defended yourself. " She looked behind her and saw the hole in the wall. "Sorry bout that. musta scared ya more that those things out there." Hannah shook her head slowly, refusing to look anywhere other than into jane's eyes. "No, that didn't scare me." Jane was taken aback. "Really? I would be scared if something like that happened." Hannah lowered her weapon and shrugged. "Not me. I'm braver than you are" Jane gave Hannah a small smirk. "Oh yeah? Then why were you waving that knife around like a crazy person?" She said. I thought you were one of them" She replied, now averting her eyes and gazing down at her sneakers.

"Well, I'm not, I promise. but..." She paused for a moment, considering the words she was about to say carefully, and gently took the child's hands. "If you really want to use a knife on those things, hold it like this." She adjusted the girl's grip on the blade and steadied her hands. "Now, the only way to kill them is through the head. That means you need to get through the skull. Believe me when I say it's not as easy as you think."

Like this? Hannah asked, moving the knife in a much more fluid and purposeful motion. "Perfect." Jane said.

Hannah stopped moving the knife around and gave a small put the knife down and pressed her head to the base of her pigtail. "What is it?" Jane asked, observing the child's pain. "My hair hurts." Your hair? Jane gently undid hannah's braid and checked her scalp. It was bloody and a few strands had been ripped out. As she spread her hair to get a better look, Hannah sucked in her breath and grabbed Jane's arm tightly. "I'm sorry. I know it must hurt." Hannah simply stuck out her lip and let Jane continue, all the while clutching her arm tighter and tighter.

"We need to clean it" Jane said, observing the damage to the girl's scalp. "It's not too bad but it needs to get clean or an infection will start." "Will it hurt?" Hannah asked, whimpering softly. "A little bit, but it will hurt much worse if I don't treat it now." "I don't wanna!" Hannah whined. Jane sighed. "Look kid, I don't want to hurt you, but is gotta get done. It can hurt for a minute, or it can hurt for days. Your choice." Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want it to hurt at all!" Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and released a frustrated sigh. She really wasn't a kid person. "That's not an option so stop whining. I'm going to clean your wound whether you want me to or not. Now shut up and do as I say." Hannah glared at her and stuck her tongue out. Jane rolled her eyes and shook her head, choosing not to respond.

Jane felt Hannah's grip loosen slightly. She used the opportunity to let go completely and put her hands under her arms, hoisting her up and onto the cheap green counter. She then squatted down and started rummaging under the sink looking for the first aid kit. She grabbed the small box and closed the doors to the cabinet, noting that the paint was still peeling.

She stared at it for a moment, stopping to remember when she had asked Pat to repaint it. She began to grow even more frustrated and angry. She had just wanted him to repaint it the same eggshell color it was but he wanted to paint it a bright yellow. They had been arguing about it for a few months now, the whole time the paint continued to peel. She grabbed a piece and gave it a gentle pull, watching it run all the way to the base. She furrowed her eyes and frowned. God could her kitchen look any worse? She was so tired of looking at those tattered cabinets. Fine. If it means she gets her kitchen back, then Pat can have his precious yellow. But she was going to be damned if she didn't get to pick the shade. She stood facing towards the door. "Hey Pat!"

BANG!

The moment his name left her lips her ears were deafened and her mind was filled with the ringing of a gunshot. The gun shot. She deflated completely. Paint colors didn't matter any more. Stupid fights about the cabinets didn't matter any more. He was gone. Nothing mattered anymore. Her eyes grew hollow and cold, same as the night before when she first walked out of her bedroom.

"Is Pat the man that saved me?" A meek but inquisitive voice asked. Jane was pulled back into reality as she felt the little girl tug gently on her bloody and worn sleeve. "If i tell you, will you let me clean your wound?" Hannah's eyes widened for a moment but even so she slowly nodded her head. Jane pulled out a large roll of gauze and handed it to Hannah. "When it stings, squeeze this as hard as you can. You can't yell. We don't want any more of those corpses to know we are here." She folded the little girl's fingers around the soft gauze and looked her in the eyes. Hannah met her serious gaze with her own. "Ok. I can be quiet."

Jane wet a cloth with peroxide and gently dabbed it on the cut. Hannah puffed out her cheeks and slammed her eyes shut. She squeezed the gauze with all of the strength her tiny hand could muster. Jane could hear a small whine buried deep in her throat. "You were right. Patrick saved you. His parents lived in the apartment next to yours. When we heard about the monsters on the news, I stayed here and packed our things while he went to get his mom and dad." Jane gently patted the girl's head with a second rag. Hannah whimpered again but now had one eye open, waiting expectantly for the rest of Jane's story. He was too late to save them, but then he heard you scream, so he saved you instead." Hannah played with her gauze, now refusing to look Jane in the eye. "Is it my fault that he got sick?" Jane froze. A lump built in her throat, a desperate sob begging to be released. She forced it back down into submission and lowered herself to meet her gaze. "Patrick knew that it was dangerous to go get you, but he did it anyway. It was his choice." Hannah had misty eyes as she looked into Jane's. "Do you wish that he had left me?" Jane sighed and looked away. She then hoisted her off of the counter and gently helped her to the ground. "The stinging should stop soon." Now, help me move the couch back to the door." Jane briskly walked out of the room, leaving Hannah to trail behind.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey! Lame brain! Over here!" Hannah waved her hands in the air wildly as a feasting carcass rose from its knees and turned towards her. As it began to take is lumbering steps towards her with ever increasing speed her eyes widened and she began to walk backwards as the creature snarled at her. It grew closer and closer, faster and faster. When it was close enough for Hannah to see the chunk of bloody flesh hanging from its teeth she let out a gasp. It extended its revolting fingers to grab her and bite down. Now, almost within arm's reach, Hannah let out a shriek. "JANE!" Jane flew from her hiding spot in the hall closet. She tackled the carcass and pinned it to the floor. It let out a deep and angry hiss as it spasmed and squirmed under her force. "If you're gonna do it, do it now kid!" Hannah pulled the carving knife from the small purple backpack that had grown to be an extension of herself. She adorned herself with the bag again and held the knife in her hands as Jane had taught her. She walked to the carcasses head and, grasping the handle tightly with both hands, raised the immaculate blade above her head. the curved edge of the blade gleamed in the early morning light that oozed through the dirty apartment window.

She looked at the disgusting thing as it writhed under Jane's strong grip on its shoulders, her knee pinning down his lower torso. It raised its head to snap its rotten blood smeared teeth at her. The knife was growing heavy in her hand. She longed to be able to force the blade into its decomposing skull and end its shrieks and snarls that she had come to realize would never leave the echos of her mind. But she couldn't. She was frightened. Paralyzed with fear. She couldn't do this. She can't do this! "Hannah!" Jane shouted, looking at her expectantly, forcefully. "Hannah do it now!" The girls arms held their uncomfortable position but began to quake. "I can't do it!" Jane looked up at her with furrowed brows. "Just do it! Get it over with!" The carcass violently spasmed in a bid to break free, causing Jane to force the creature down hard, slamming is back onto the hardwood flooring with force. A sickening crack could be heard as the skull broke. "I can't! I'm scared!" Jane looked up at the little girl once more, sweat gleamed from her brow as she forced the carcass into submission. "Either you kill it, or it kills you."

Jane looked at the girls fear filled eyes and glared at her. As she turned her head to reach for the blade tucked into her boot she heard a thunk and feel the spatter of hot liquid on the back of her neck and in her hair. She turned back around to see Hannah now at he own eye level, returning her steely glare. "There. Happy now?" Jane felt the movement below her soften then stop completely as the body went limp. She looked at the girl, meeting her eyes and smiled. "First kill. Nice work kid." she raised herself to her feet and gave her a small smirk, which was returned in kind. Jane wiped the blood from her neck and surveyed the room. "Look for anything useful. Weapons, water, food, anything. They went from room to room in the sweltering apartment, and salvaged what they could.

As Jane went through the kitchen Hannah looked around the bathroom. She looked through the medicine cabinet and found nothing of value except a near empty bottle of ibuprofen. She looked under the sink and found only some drain cleaner and a bottle of bleach. "Find anything?" Jane walked in and nealt down to see what Hannah was doing. "Just some pain killers." Hannah said uninterestedly. "Not much here really." She moved to close the cabinet drawer when Jane stopped her with her own hand, pulling it open again. "Grab the bleach." Hannah's face twisted into an expression of confusion. "Why?" Jane grabbed the bottle and felt the weight in her hands, judging how much was left. "One teaspoon of this stuff can sterilize five gallons of water. This stuff is like liquid gold now." Hannah looked at her in admiration. "Really? How did you know that!?" Jane looked at her with a coked eyebrow. "I'm a doctor? We kinda have to know that stuff." Jane placed the near empty bottle in her backpack and walked into the living room again and began rooting through the drawers.

Hannah shuffled behind her but kept her distance. Jane glanced over at her and saw how she was half hiding behind the sofa. She returned her gaze to the task at hand, looking through the piles of random items left behind when the apartments residents fled. "What?" she murmured almost absentmindedly. Hannah's eyes darted from her dirty sneakers to the side of Jane's face back to her shoes. "I didn't know you were a doctor." She pulled out a half empty lighter from the back of the drawer and stuck it in her pocket. "Hmm? Oh yea. I worked in autopsy." Hannah tugged at a loose string on the couch. "What's that?" Jane squatted down and looked through the bottom drawer, pushing past dusty dvd's and video games. "Autopsy? Oh thats when-" Jane turned and saw that hannah's eyes were big as saucers and she was fumbling with her fingers. 'She's afraid of doctors...' Jane realized. She looked Hannah right in the eye. "Honestly? When patients die, they are sent to me. I cut them open and figure out why they died." Hannah gasped. "Look kid, I know it's not the nicest thing in the world, but i'm not going to ever sugar coat anything with you. If we are going to make it out of this alive, we need to be straight with each other. Get it?" Hannah looked at her for a moment and then gave a tiny smile. "Promise? I hate when grownups lie to me. I've known that Santa is just my mom and dad since I was 6. Jane gave a smirk. "What tipped you off?" Hannah smiled and picked at her nails. "Santa and my parents use the same wrapping paper." Jane crossed her arms across her chest. "Not bad kid." Jane gave her a crooked smile. "Ya know that reminds me of when I was a kid. I would-"

BANG! BANG!

Jane tackled Hannah to the ground and laid on top of her, covering her mouth. Hannah covered her ears and let out a muffled scream.


End file.
